Canada Snaps
by I'mTheMonster
Summary: Matthew finally had enough of being ignored. But does being noticed really take the bad deeds he does? How can he get out of this one? Does it end well, or come crashing down around the nations? F.A.C.E Family used, insanity as well. Bloody, beware. Enjoy the feels.
1. Chapter 1

"I have to go to war with West." Gilbert told him. America starred at him blankly.

"You… You're leaving?" He whispered looking down. _Don't cry. _ He told himself. _Don't let him see you cry…_

"Yeah… I'm sorry." Alfred shook his head and smiled sadly at him.

"You have to. But you'll come back, right?" Alfred watched a sad smile etch itself onto his love's face.

"I'll try."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Gilbert kissed him. They stayed together, kissing and holding each other, for a long time. Gilbert finally pulled back, Alfred almost whimpering in protest.

"Now you have to promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Don't let your country fall until it's time. Don't die until then, okay?"

"Promise."

"I have to go now."

"Bye…" Alfred whispered.

"Ich liebe dich" Gilbert whispered, kissing him again.

"I love you too." Alfred whispered back. Gilbert walked out of America's house and walked down the road. Alfred was sure he would never see him again.

((It's me again~ Sorry the first one is so short, I'm sure I'll have a few short chapters and then some long ones. It gets better. If you can't tell I ship PruAme... Sorry. Well, Enjoy the starting.))

((No one thinks it was good.))

((Shut up, you. I'm fabulous.))


	2. Chapter 2

Days went by, weeks went by. No news. Nothing happened. That was… Until Matthew came to America. He knocked on the door softly. Alfred was in his room, on the bed, curled up. He hadn't gotten up in around a week or so, which was rare for the American. He was always up and at 'em. The other nations were worried. Britain had tried to comfort him, but the Brit couldn't help. They had found some news that none of them wanted to share with Alfred, so they begged Mattie to help. Matthew opened the door to his room slowly and walked over to his bed.

"Alfred…" Matthew's wispy voice said into the silence of the room.

"Mattie?" Alfred muttered and reached a hand out. He felt tears in his eyes as he sat next to his brother. The weak American sat up and hugged his brother softly.

"Alfred… I h-hate to add to your b-bad mood…" Mattie said, remembering the thing he had come to tell him.

"Tell me…" His brother looked at him. Matthew took this chance to look him over. The usual fat he had, had shrunken back into his stomach. His eyes were red and puffy, like he had just been crying before Mattie had come.

"It's about Gilbert…" The tone in his voice made Alfred tear up. "He's g-gone…" He heard himself say. Alfred had tears rolling down his face, he put his head down and sobbed, his weak shoulders shaking. He curled his arms around himself. Alfred knew he looked pitiful, but what else could he do? He hurt. His hair was in his eyes, so Mattie couldn't see the pain in them. Alfred felt arms wrap around him. He continued to hug himself, tears streaming down his face. He tensed up, and they stayed like that for a long time. Alfred finally melted into his brother and sobbed. He felt like a kid. He looked like a kid. He felt like a kicked puppy. He felt a hand under his chin and his face was tilted up to a kiss. He gasped. He'd loved Gilbert. He loved him, still does. But Matthew felt so good right now. He felt so good… _Forgive me Gilbert…_ He kissed his brother back, and the night continued.

He woke up to the bright sunshine streaming into his room. Somehow the blinds had been opened. He shivered, and realized he was naked under a thin bed sheet. He let out a soft moan and felt arms wrap around him. He smiled and sunk back into them, thinking it was Gilbert. His mind came back suddenly, Gilbert was dead, and this was Matthew. He turned around and looked at his little brother. The brother who had rode him last night. _Quiet, little Matthew rode me… _Alfred thought, he put his head in Matthew's chest and felt a hand rub his back. He had thoughts running through his head, a million of them, but not one made sense to him yet.

"We have a meeting today." Matthew said quietly. Ironically, they did. Alfred sighed.

"I know." He whispered back. Matthew kissed his head and held him. Alfred closed his eyes again, _just a few more hours of sleep…_

_((Bad? Good? ... Was it wrong to add that in there? Oops. Sorry. I don't know how bad it'll get yet... But, have fun!))_

_((That was wrong, Monster.))_

_((You shush it, I'm still amazing at this.))_


	3. Chapter 3

Matthew woke him up two hours to the meeting. Alfred could normally be there in 30 minutes, even after sex, but today was different. He was weighed down by pain. It still hurt, and hurt more to stand. He got ready and was at the building 5 minutes to the meeting. Matthew sat down next to Alfred, and everyone looked at Mattie quizzically. No one remembered him, so it was surprising for them to see him. Alfred kept his head down. He didn't want anyone to see how dull his deep blue eyes were. _Pathetic._ He could hear Gilbert scolding him. _Pathetic excuse for a nation. _His scoldings would always come with a kiss. But Alfred could no longer feel his lips. No longer see his grin. Feel his love. Alfred wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. Matthew squeezed his hand encouragingly. Germany started the meeting and everything went smoothly. England and France kept quiet, and no one else fought, or talked in general. They talked about flourishing of the nations and other things that they normally would. Alfred didn't say a word. Not through the whole thing. Sometime in the middle of the meeting, Alfred had gotten up and went to look out the window. Thinking of nothing. When it was time for them all to leave, Alfred stayed and looked out the window, until almost everyone was gone. Britain walked over to him, and France followed.

"Alfred, you can't let this keep you down." Arthur said quietly after some time.

"How do you know?" Alfred's voice sounded raw and bloody. It hurt to just speak, and breathe too. Arthur looked from France, to Matthew and back to Alfred.

"At least he's not in pain anymore." Alfred tore his gaze away from the window and looked at all three of them.

"Pain?" He asked quietly. Arthur looked at him in shock.

"You never…?" Alfred shook his head and heard Francis mummer something to Britain about America being 'just a kid' and how 'he wouldn't know of a dying nation's pain'. Alfred sunk to the ground numbly. It hurt. He hurt. He never knew Gilbert was in pain… He never thought of his pain… He never thought there was pain… He heard the rumbling of voices. He couldn't hear what they were saying. He felt a hand on his and looked up numbly. He saw Canada smile weakly. He stood up and looked out of the window, ignoring the rumbling. Soon enough he felt his ears pop.

"Come over later than." England whispered.

"It's important. After I get Alfred home I'll come over, eh?"

"Alright." Alfred turned to Mattie and acted like nothing happened, like he didn't hear the last of their conversation.

"Al! Y-You okay?" Matthew asked surprised. Alfred nodded, feeling light headed and sick to his stomach.

"Can we go home?" He whispered. Mattie nodded.

"Bye France, see you England." Matthew said, walking away. Alfred gave them both a weak smile. Arthur grabbed his hand.

"Stay strong, Alfred. It's not the end of the world." Alfred gave a smile genuine smile to that. He nodded and walked away. Matthew waited at the door for him, and they went back to America's house.

((What do you think will happen? You know the culprit yet? Any ideas of the plan? Muahaha~))

((Monster, no one cares.))

((Yes they do. They love my story.))


	4. Chapter 4

After Alfred had fallen asleep when they had gotten back, Matthew went to England's. He had been waiting for this for a long time. He had the paper in his jacket pocket. England was sure to say yes. He hated Alfred too. Matthew knocked on the door and Arthur called that he was coming He opened the door a minute later and let him in.

"What was so important that you had to come and ask right away?" The Brit asked as Matthew took off his shoes. Mattie walked into the kitchen and actually smelled something good.

"You actually made that?" Mattie asked.

"Just tea…" Arthur rolled his eyes. Matthew took a seat and smiled at him. A smile Arthur had never seen on his face. He remembered a long time ago when Alfred used that smile to get what he wanted. He sat down across from Matthew.

"Arthur. I need your help on something." Mattie said slowly, watching the older nation's reaction.

"With?" Mattie brought out the paper and unfolded it, turning it and giving it to England.

"Alfred." Arthur's eyes widened in surprise and soon turned to regret and anger.

"Matthew, he's my brother…" Arthur whispered getting up. He walked over to the window and starred out. Matthew got up and put a hand on his shoulder.

"He broke away from you. He hurt you. Don't you want to get back at him for that?" Matthew asked. His voice was different. Something in it made England turn.

"I can't…"

"What if I give you something if you help me?" Matthew bargained

"Matthew I-"

"You can have America. He'll be yours again." Matthew smiled as Arthur considered his offer. "All you have to do is sign on the line and he'll be as good as yours again." Arthur nodded slowly. Mattie led him back to the table and Britain slowly signed on the line, closing Alfred's fate. _One more to go._ Matthew thought with a smile. _I won't be forgotten for long._

_((((_

Alfred woke up with a jerk. It was around Midnight. Matthew was gone still and he was hungry. He hurt still, but he remembered Gilbert telling him not to die until it was his nation's time. He got up and put his feet to the ground. He could feel the carpet. He felt the softness. He hadn't felt that for a long while. He smiled and got off the bed, and yawned. He walked to the kitchen and smiled when he grabbed a can of coke, chugging it down instantly. He looked around and grinned. He remembered times here when he was alone, and times when he was with Gilbert. He walked back to the couch and flipped on the T.v. and changed it to play a video game. He played for a little while before his stomach growled loudly in hunger. He had killed his character twice and killed all the zombies he was supposed to until he leveled up. He paused the game and put the controller down, stretching out again. His stomach growled in protest and he took his phone from the table next to the couch, and ordered some pizza.

((America's part in this was cute. But Mattie's!? I mean... Come on... I'm so horrible~))

((No one likes you.))

((STOP SAYING THAT!))


	5. Chapter 5

Matthew walked up the steps to his papa's house. France was the last ally he needed. America wouldn't stand a chance against France, Britain, and himself. He knocked on the door and Francis answered.

"Ah! Mathieu!" Francis drawled pulling him into a hug. Matthew hugged back.

"Hello papa." He said softly.

"To what do I owe this surprise visit? I heard you were going over to Arthur's house today. I never heard you were coming over here." France smiled and let Matthew in. They went to the dining table and Matthew had to force back a smile,_ same place as I got Arthur to sign it against his own son._ Francis sat down opposite to him and filled a glass with wine. The bottle was half empty. So he must have just had company. "Gilbert and Antonio were just here." France put out as is reading his mind.

"Anyways, papa, I came to ask for your help." He said loudly. Francis almost spit out his wine. Matthew was never loud and almost always stuttered. This time his voice was loud, confident, and without stutter. He seemed different…

"For what, Mathieu?" Francis asked with a light smile. Canada took a breath.

"I need your help for beating America." He said quickly. France gave him a weird look and smiled.

"And l'Angleterre has agreed to your treaty already?" Matthew nodded slowly. Francis and Arthur didn't really like each other, but still tolerated each other at some points. They had been lovers off and on for a while.

"He has, but papa. I need you to help me." He said strongly, almost whining. He looked at his watch. Midnight. _Alfred shouldn't be awake… Right? Would he know where I've gone?_ He mentally shook his head. He didn't care about Alfred anymore. He was acting so he could get onto his close side, to ruin him more in the future. France got up and walked over to Mattie, kissing his cheek lightly.

"You know I would do anything for you, Mathieu." He turned the paper to him and looked it over. He turned his head to Mattie and smiled.

"Is there something wrong, papa?" He asked, standing now, and looking over the Frenchman's shoulder.

"L'Angleterre gets Amerique again?" France asked a light tone to his voice.

"It was the only way I could get him to help me with Alfred." Matthew told him honestly. France nodded. He signed it and turned back to Matthew.

"There you go, Mon amour." France said with a smile. Matthew took the paper carefully and kissed Francis' cheek.

"Thank you papa." He said and smiled. Francis kissed both his cheeks, and his forehead.

"You are welcome, Mathieu." Mattie smiled.

"I might need to get back soon. I don't want Al to get suspicious." He mentally slapped himself. _Don't call him Al…_ He thought angrily.

"Tell me when we're going after him in advance, so I can be ready." Matthew nodded and was escorted to the door.

"See you soon papa!" He said happily, giving him another peck on the cheek. Francis waved him off and started the 5 minute run back to America's house.

((Now he's got France in on this too?! Oh, how evil. I think I have to put this in or I'll get questions= I made this so me and my friend could do a cosplay of it, and we have our own ideas for how the countries work. They can run really fast how we think, and as I have put it, five minutes from France to America.))

((L'Angleterre, if you don't know, means England. Mon Amour, My love and then the fancy French ways of spelling America and Matthew.))

((Sense. Finally.))


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred was spread out on the couch, playing some blood filled zombie game. Matthew walked into the house and looked at him in shock.

"H-How are you up…?"

"I got tired of doing nothing. Woke up, and was hungry. You weren't there, I had to do something." Alfred shrugged, sticking out his tongue in concentration. Matthew sighed and sat over by Alfred. He changed positions again and laid his head in Matthew's lap. Matthew stroked his hair lovingly and Alfred continued to play the game. Alfred finally killed his character and looked up at Matthew.

"S-Something wrong?" Matthew asked softly. Alfred shook his head and leaned up, kissing Matthew.

"Thanks." Matthew pecked his lips back, the emotion easy to fake.

"For what?"

"Everything." Mattie mentally smirked. The fact that Alfred believed him would make the betrayal even better. He blushed, thinking quickly.

"Oh… W-Well, you're w-welcome…" He stuttered out softly. Alfred reached up and kissed him softly and fell back into his lap, turning his head and starting his game over. Matthew watched him for a little while before leaning back and falling asleep, thinking that the day would be soon.

Matthew woke up in Alfred's bed. The American nowhere to be found. He got up and rubbed his eyes. He was still in his clothes from the day before, but his shoes and socks were taken off as well as his glasses. The Canadian reached over and put them on.

"GOD DAMN IT!" Alfred's voice echoed through the room. Matthew jumped at the sound. He got up quickly and found Alfred out on the couch, eating Mc Donald's. Matthew looked at the time on his watch, noon. He mentally hit himself. He never slept that long.

"A-Alfred…?" Matthew whispered. Alfred looked at him and smacked himself.

"I woke you up, right? Oh, yeah, sorry." It looked like the American was up all night playing that video game, but Matthew looked and saw it was a different one.

"Were y-you up all night p-playing this?" He asked softly. Alfred nodded and took another sip of his coke.

"You dosed off, and I was gonna go to sleep… But this game was so fun. I had to finish it, bro, you gettit?" Matthew nodded and went to sit on the couch again. Alfred sat next to him. They both watched the game for a while; suddenly a zombie had popped up in front of the screen, causing both brothers to jump, and killing Alfred's character. Matthew whimpered and pulled his knees up to his chest and Alfred, obviously spooked too, wrapped an arm around Matthew.

"A-Al…" Mattie whimpered. Alfred laughed, shaking slightly.

"It wasn't that scary, dude." Alfred grinned, close to freaking out. "Don't worry, it can't really hurt you. It was scared off by my Heroic standing." Alfred's grin widened. It took all Matthew had not to roll his eyes so he just nodded and shrank back into his brother.

"Y-Yeah…" He whispered. Alfred smiled and kissed his cheek lovingly. Matthew giggled and smiled softly. Those days could not have gone faster.

A month had passed since Matthew had gotten the elder nations to sign against America. _The time is soon._ He thought. Alfred was stronger now than he was at the beginning. Matthew had rang up Francis and Arthur days before and told them in a week and they had agreed. Only one day away. One day until _he_ finally got the spotlight. Not his annoying brother. Alfred was still sleeping, having been up trying to catch up on the work papers for his country. Mattie almost couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was a few days younger, but seemed older next to little Matthew. ((Don't ask how you can be in labor for a few days. Arthur isn't telling.)) He acted like a kid, and was never taken seriously. _It's better if he's with an adult that can tend to him._ Matthew told himself. He walked into the kitchen and sighed, grabbing a bottle of maple syrup and drinking it. The day went by faster than expected. Alfred didn't wake up once all day.

((Well, here. I think... It's either the next chapter or the chapter after that where things pick up and become really bad. In one of them Matthew-))

((*Puts a hand over her mouth.* Does nothing. Shut up, Monster.))

((Fine. But I'll still destroy their feels at some point.))


	7. Chapter 7

Later the next day:

Alfred hit the ground at a roll; he jumped to his feet right as the next gun shot rang out. It whistled past his ears and the slash of a sword in front of him made him shoot his own gun. They had been fighting for a while already. It was tiring. His capital was burning. Washington D.C. was burning. New York was burning. Many of his states and places were burning. They had managed to drop a few bombs on their way too, boy was that painful. He was sweating in his uniform, wanting badly to be covered in ice. The battle with his family not helping. Arthur, Francis, and Matthew all against him. He never thought… He ducked as another bullet flew by his face. He dodged a pirate sword to the stomach and retaliated quickly; shooting in the direction the pirate sword had come from. He heard a cling and a laugh, the dust too thick to see. He stood trying to figure out where they were, suddenly feeling trapped. He looked around and was just only able to dodge a bullet and sword. He wondered vaguely where the Frenchman was. He was here at the start of the battle… He could only tell Arthur and Matthew's fighting style. Matthew never fought, but he was one sharp shooter. It was a miracle he could dodge the bullets. He heard his brother's laugh again, stronger than he's ever heard it.

"You won't be able to win this, Alfred." He said. "Give up now and spare your people's lives." Alfred glared into the dust the two older nations had kicked up, hoping he was looking at one of them. He thought about it though. His people would die if this continued… He shook his head, he was the hero. He would let them be free, or die trying.

"Never." As if they expected that answer Arthur leapt out of the dust at him. He slashed his sword at him and he was barely able to dodge as it slashed up his back. It nicked the back of his neck and he grabbed it immediately. Blood soaked his hand and he turned back, met by a punch in the face. He quickly retaliated, kicking out. He felt his leg hit something and he took off at a run. He had forgotten where they were. _Where am I? Where am I going…? _He ran out of the choking dust and looked up to find a huge building. He didn't remember what it was, but he stumbled in it to find it void of all people. His freedom from England even wasn't this bad. Why did they hate him now…? He only had time to sigh before the sharp bang and pain of a bullet hitting the back of his knee. He cried out and hit the floor. He turned quickly to avoid the smash of a sword he had no idea that was coming. He looked up into the barrel of a gun. He shut his eyes again quickly, tilted his head down, and waited for the pain. He felt the gun under his chin, tilting his head back up.

"Eyes open, _big bro._" Matthew taunted. He opened his eyes and found himself starring into Matthew's purple ones. The Canadian laughed, pulling back slightly. "You seem just like Gilbert." _Gilbert._ He thought quickly.

"What…?" Was all he could get out. His voice broke and he continued to stare at his twin.

"You don't know? Gilbert died. But never made it to the place he was going." Alfred continued to look at him, screwing up his face slightly. Mattie sighed. "You're that stupid, eh?" He sighed and took the gun away from his neck. Alfred saw Arthur and Francis behind him. Francis was sooty. _He must have been the one setting the fires…_ Alfred hated them. He loved his family, but hated them right now. They turned on him. They- "I killed Gilbert." Matthew's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I killed him." Alfred's eyes pooled with tears and he looked at the elder nations behind his brother. France was watching Mattie with sadness, his gaze flickering to Alfred and back. Britain was caught watching Matthew in surprise. _Had he not told them?_ Alfred bit his lip continuing to watch him.

"Kill me then." He said quietly. "Why don't you?" Matthew laughed; the laugh was unlike him in so many ways. It was evil, cruel, and defiantly, surely cold.

"Torture." Matthew smirked. "To see how long you last now. And…" He turned to England and smiled again. "I already promised someone he could have you until you disappear." Alfred looked at England and saw cold hatred in his eyes. He shrunk back slightly. _Gilbert…_ His mind continued to say over and over again. He might have even been murmuring it. He didn't know, he was too numb and on fire. _Gilbert… I should have tried to stop you from leaving… Gilbert. Gilbert. Gilbert..._ Matthew smiled again at him and pointed the gun once more at him.

"Matthew…" Arthur whispered to him. Matthew ignored his plea, and grabbed his sword spinning it around and jabbing Alfred with the handle, in the stomach and head. He hit the floor with a soft thud and sweat and blood poured down his face. His head was cracked open, but he didn't care. Matthew got what he wanted. _Wait until next Meeting. They'll all know me then. _He thought happily. Arthur bent down next to his son and actually looked concerned, but as Mattie looked down at him the moment was over. He did not care about his son. He was nothing more than a bad boy who he had retaken. He picked up Alfred and carried him away, the boys head lulling on his shoulder. Matthew watched as his brother and father went away. He watched until he could see no mare, and then turned to Francis.

"Mathieu…" France began. "I didn't know you had killed Gilbert…" Matthew's face turned to a snarl.

"And what would you care? You only cared about each other for sex." Matthew gave him a smug look as France's eyes darkened.

"I thought I raised you better Mathieu…" He growled angrily. Mattie laughed and took out his gun, pointing it at his father.

"What, fucking me to teach me the ropes of 'l'amour'? Great father you were, papa." He smirked, laughing at the anger in France's eyes.

"You've been a bad boy, Mattie. Someone will teach you a lesson." France whispered. Matthew laughed sourly and hopped at his father, pointing the gun at him, the war on once again, and even with just a few slashes, France knew Mattie had snapped. There was no stopping him now.

((It was this chapter. I lied. It was the next one. So, how'd it go? I know I'm not very good at writing battle scenes...))

((Then just stop writing.))

((No! I must destroy them with more~!))


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred woke up when he hit the floor. His head had stopped bleeding on the way to Britain's place. Now, at his place, he was forced to the floor. He hit hard and looked up at the Brit in shock. Arthur's face was set half way between and evil smirk and a glare. Alfred looked up at him blankly, not showing any pain. Refusing. Arthur's face twisted again. He looked insane this time. He quickly turned Alfred over and ripped his shirt off. He took his sword and dug it into his back. Alfred bit his hand to stop his scream. It hurt more than ever. _Because I'm no longer a country…_ He thought. A few minutes of pain later, Alfred's back was marked with Britain's flag. Showing that he was now his property. Alfred knew he couldn't get away so easily this time. He laid on the floor and released his hand from his mouth as Arthur got off his back. The ex-pirate stabbed his sword expertly next to Alfred's head, close enough to nip his ear. He winced and looked up at the elder nation.

"Not so tough now, are we _America_?" He laughed and pulled his pirate sword out of the ground, slicing on the back of Alfred's neck. "Now be a good boy or you'll get worse." He walked away and Alfred looked after him, sitting up slowly, with a sickening _plop_ blood hit the ground. His glasses were flung onto the other side of the room, and Arthur had stepped on them. He sighed. No way of seeing what he was doing. He stood up dizzily and looked around. The spot where he had been was covered in blood, he had only seen that much blood in WW2. Never from himself. He wondered if Gilbert had felt this. Had felt shamed and destroyed. His heart ached but he continued on. He looked around and saw basically everything how he had left it years and years ago. _Will I have to eat his cooking?_ He quietly laughed then thought better of it and continued to scan the room, not trusting himself to move. Everything was how he remembered it. It was just too weird…

"Come here, Alfred." Arthur's laughing voice traveled down the hallway he had went down. Alfred started down the hallway and put his hand against the wall to make sure he knew where he was going. His eyesight was still terrible. Nothing would change that. He heard a TV blaring and hopped that was where the Brit was. He walked toward the room and stumbled, catching himself on the wall before he fell. He looked around the corner and saw the blob of color that was his father. He stood at the doorway and leaned against the frame. "Listen." The announcer dude was talking on about the attack on America. How they were successful and things like that. Then, words he had never thought he would ever hear was heard.

"... With this, I hereby announce The United States of America is officially dissolved…" He starred at the light he thought was the screen then back at Britain. Alfred could tell he was smiling. He was smiling. At him. Because his country was over. He couldn't bite back the response.

"Like you should be the one smiling. Your empire fell long ago." He felt the Brit stand and Alfred took off back down the hallway. Something went past his ear and he was sure a knife was just thrown at him. He fell as he reached the front room, feeling like a caged animal. Britain pinned him down quickly, anger coming off him in waves.

"You would _dare_ say that to me. After all the mercy I have shown you." Alfred let out a small laugh, and looked back at him, smiling.

"Ha, Mercy? You call helping my brother wreck my nation, taking me for yourself to torture, and cutting your flag into my back **_mercy?!_**" Alfred screamed the last part. Sounding insane himself. Arthur's face looked surprised for a second. Like he just realized what he did. His face was back to cold as soon as Alfred almost noticed the look on his face.

"You weren't killed, you were spared. You should be-"

"Furious. I know. I wish I was dead. I wish I was anywhere but here. Especially with you!" He noted his speech had improved some. He wondered when he would die. It was already one day but he wanted out. He wanted Gilbert… Arthur's face twisted in rage and he struck Alfred. The younger winced at the pain in his jaw. He hated Arthur. But… No he didn't. He cared about him. He just hated what he was doing.

"You _will_ get whipped later…" Arthur hit him again and walked away. Alfred watched him walk away and found himself feeling burning wetness travel down his cold cheeks. Arthur had never hit him before. Not when it was just them. When they were in war, sure. But not… He shook his head and looked after the Brit. He could swear his face was turned to him… He turned away and climbed slowly to his feet. He looked again to see Arthur still standing where he was. _Why won't he just leave me alone…_ He clambered away to his old room and stood in the doorway for a second before walking in. The bed was made again; the desk was where it was. He opened the closet. His old clothes were still there… He heard rain start pouring outside and sighed. He squatted down and squinted to see in his closet, not having remembered to turn on the light. He saw a box. _What the…?_ He grabbed it and slowly walked back to the bed. Sure enough, his name was on it. But he didn't remember it… He opened the box, and looked to see letters. Letters and letters addressed to all the older nations. Himself even. His hand writing hand sucked. Horribly. But he could read it still. There were two books in the box. He took them both out. He opened the one from years ago and read the first entry.

Dear Diary Journal,

England bought this for me to write in. He said I could read it when I grew up. Hey older me! S'up, dude! Hope you're doing alright! We going good? England said he bought the other one for you when you find these and need them. I don't know what he meant by that, but you might need 'em. Hey me? Do you think we'll be powerful one day? I hope we are. I don't want to fall… I want to live. How old are you now? I'm 5.

- The Hero.

((If you can't tell, He's in England's house, in his room before he had the revolution. Did I give you feels yet? Please tell me I have! Please!))

((No.))

((Oh... Well, let's try to continue then, Shall we?))


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred starred at the page and threw it out of the door with a strangled cry. It hit the wall with a bang and he waited for Arthur to come and beat him. He didn't come. Alfred got up and walked out of the door, searching around for the journal. His hand met the binding and he wrapped his hand around it. He swore his own hand touched something warm and he pulled back and looked around wildly. Just his imagination… He walked back into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. He swore he heard a voice. A laugh. His own laugh. But not… He shook his head. _You can't go insane…_ He told himself. He sat back on the bed and welcomed the coldness of the bed on his back. He opened put the book beside him and pulled out a letter, softly reading out loud.

_Dear Prussia,_

_Thanks for helping me dude. I have a feeling I can't describe… It's nothing like how I feel about England or anything… It's different. I heard England won't let you come near me. But I like it when you're with me. You teach me new things. You sang a weird song today. I was surprised, but you told me exactly what I wanted to hear. A way out. I… I care about you a lot. Hope you and I become good friends. Thanks._

_- The Hero_

He remembers he had used his emotions he was feeling as anger in the 2nd world war. How he had killed the man who had helped him… He had given him to the commie… He had- There was a letter to the commie in here too. A letter to all the nations. Even little Romano had one, he had laughed quietly reading that one.

_Romano,_

_Why can't you see what you have? You act like such a mofo it's laughable. Get some help._

_- The Hero_

He stared at the letters he had written long ago and then back to the books. He pealed his back off the bed and looked down to find the bed covered in pus shaped like Britain's flag. He shivered and heard the rain pick up he looked at the books and picked up the one he hadn't looked at yet. He opened it to the first page and saw his little self, had written a note in there for him.

_I'm sure Arthur is up to something in the future with this. He might know my plan to revolt. Use this if he takes us back. Don't let yourself die in vain. Write notes to everyone, and tell them all what he did to us. Tell them what you think of them. If you're gonna die. Die you. Don't die a lie._

_- The Hero._

He looked at the note over and over again, realizing it was just before his revolution. Before that had happened… He quickly turned the pages to see if there were any other notes. _The back._ His mind whispered. He looked around. Nothing. He heard the wind howling and the TV blaring. Nothing out of the ordinary for this place. He flipped all the way to the back and was surprised to find another note, but not from himself. The ink was still wet. Like someone had just written in it. _I had this the whole time, how could…_ He read the message out loud to himself.

_Alfred,_

_You'll find this soon so I had to rush to write it. It's Arthur. I'm going to end up killing you by the end of this. Don't worry though. It actually all works out. Don't let me see you with these. You'll get an eye out. You will need some help along this. Make sure you stay alive for at least a month. I won't treat you very well, and you will most likely want to die… Not that you already don't want to… but if you want to have a surprise at least last that long. I'll write in here whenever I can. You write in here too. You'll need the help. Hopefully you'll be able to see… Look up after you're done. Don't be afraid. Don't be scared. I'm still here for you, Alfie. Even if you hate me. Goodbye. I'll connect to you soon. Good luck, Alfred._

_Arthur K._

((Cute, right? Alright, you must not get it. "How did Arthur's hand writing get in the book now, talking of the "End of This?" you might be asking. Well, another idea me and my buddy had. Arthur has magic, right? Well, why not use that magic to be able to go back and forth through time. You have to stay out of people's way though. No one can see you or it ruins everything. *Harry Potter time turner reference.*))

((Lame geek!))

((Oi! Shut it!))


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred read the note over again before looking up. No one was there. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed and there in the doorway was Arthur. His eyes were wild, and he looked scared. Thunder crashed again and the older nation put his hands over his ears and fell to his knees. Alfred quickly put everything back in the box, threw it under the bed and knelt down next to him. Arthur weakly pushed him away.

"Go away…" He whispered. Lightning flashed and lit the room. Alfred wrapped his arms around him as thunder crashed again. Arthur winced and curled into him, he put his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed together.

"It's okay Arthur…" He whispered. He winced as he moved, his back reminding him of what the Brit had done to him. Arthur looked up at him and opened his eyes. His emerald green eyes were filled with tears. Thunder crashed again and Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, curling into him more, trying to block out the sound and light. Alfred held him until the storm was over.

Alfred woke up in his old bed in Arthur's house. His back was stuck to the bed sheets, but at least he was alive. He peeled his back off and walked to the closet, moving the way too small clothes aside to see the mirror he had put in there. He turned and looked at his back. It was perfectly cut – expertly even - but looked infected already. He sighed, turning away and pulled the box back out from under the bed. He opened up the journal that had the two messages to him in and he read them over. He wrote his own little letter to no one in his horrid hand writing and closed it quickly, hearing Arthur walking down the hallway. He slid it back under the bed and looked up in time to see the Brit. He was back to being cold. Last night he had fallen asleep with Alfred and he had to carry the elder back to his own room and bed. The Brit must've remembered that because he gave Alfred a somewhat nice nod. He walked into Alfred's room and threw a shirt at him, and then sat on his bed.

"You're coming to the meeting with me today." Alfred nodded, wondering how to respond to that. _At least I'll know how Gilbert felt when Ivan had him…_ He did have one question though.

"Arthur? Can… I ask you something?" Arthur looked surprised at the fear in his voice.

"Sure." He said coldly.

"Does… The news normally get around that fast… That a nation has been… destroyed?" A lump formed in his throat as he said the last word. _Yes. I was destroyed._ He thought to himself.

"Not usually. But your brother wanted it done as soon as possible, I guess." He shrugged. Alfred nodded and put the shirt on. It was tight and cut into his back. _Looks like I get to wear this for a while…_ He thought to himself. He looked at Arthur, who – from what he could tell – was all ready to go. Arthur sighed. "Can you see a damn thing?" Alfred shook his head lightly then nodded.

"I can see some things." Arthur sighed again.

"Your eyesight was always horrible…" He got up and walked out of the room. "Meet me in my room and five minutes or you'll go blind." His words sounded cold, but it seemed like his intentions, if Alfred was there in five minutes, were good. Alfred quickly turned to look back at his closet before looking back under his bed, reading through notes. He counted to sixty three times in his head. He quickly put everything away and walked to Britain's room, still counting. He opened the door slowly at the last ten seconds and closed the door softly behind him, turning around and looking around the blurry room as soon as he reached the last sixty.

"Good job, poppet." Arthur's voice reached his ears.

"Yeah well, I learned something when I was a colony." He retorted. He could hear Arthur let out a sigh, whether of exasperation or sadness, Alfred didn't know.

"Of course you did…" The nation sighed. Alfred huffed out a loud breath and leaned against the door. He felt a hand put something into his. "Put these in. Go into the bathroom and put them in." He felt the case, feeling his face heat up. It was a case. But he knew what was in it. Contacts. He no longer had glasses. He had contacts. He walked out of the room and into the bathroom. He stuck them in quickly. They didn't help his eyesight as much as Texas did, but it was good enough. He could at least see the actual shapes and forms and not blobs of color.

"We're leaving now!" Arthur's commanding voice told him. He walked out of the bathroom and looked down the hallway to his room. The Brit stood in the doorway of the room. "Now, Alfred." He began to walk out of the house, Alfred following him. The rain was coming down in a soft drizzle and Arthur walked outside into the soft rain. Alfred followed, staying behind the elder. The shirt pinched his back and he winced as the fabric bit into his back. His bare arms were already soaked by the misty water, hair damp. He felt like he wasn't going to like this meeting.

((Will the meeting go wrong? Or not? Maybe I'm just joking with you lot!))

((She's lying. She's bad at not letting things go wrong.))

((Yeah... All of my stories involve some type of death or hurt or something... Oops.))


	11. Chapter 11

They arrived at the building sooner than he had expected. He remembered nations could move faster than regular humans, but Gilbert couldn't move as fast as he could all the time. _This is what it feels…_ There was a sudden pain in his chest. He shivered on instinct and his hand flew to his heart. He put his hand down. _Be brave. Don't show pain._ He told himself. _Don't show them what you feel… Don't show pain…_ He swallowed roughly and looked around; he saw most of the nation's talking in different places of the building. He caught Germany's eye and saw he was with Romano, Italy, and Spain. Alfred didn't especially like the Vargas brothers, and didn't have a great like to Spain, though is not for Arthur Spain would have raised him. He didn't hate them. Just didn't like them as much as someone else.

"Alfred." Germany called to him. He looked to Arthur, and the Brit waved him off.

"Be in the meeting room soon." The Brit walked towards the meeting room. Alfred was amazed he was let off so easily. He watched as France went in after Arthur. That would not end well. He walked over to Germany. Romano gave him an evil glare and Alfred watched as he moved closer to Spain. Barely. But he went close to Spain. Alfred resisted a smile. Germany gave him a nod and Spain gave him a stupid smile. He was always smiling.

"Hola, Alfred!" Spain said gaily. Alfred envied his happiness. He wished he was happy too.

"S'up, dude?" He grinned. Germany gave him a glare and Feliciano looked at him confused.

"How are you so happy, Alfred? Ludwig said your-" Italy's mouth was quickly covered by Germany's hand. He was able to catch a muttered scolding.

"Don't talk to him about that, Italy." Germany muttered evilly. Romano gave him another glare and Germany let go of the Italian brother.

"That's okay, Germany, dude." Alfred said. He wasn't Canada quiet, but wasn't himself either. "My country is dissolved, yeah. England doesn't treat me bad, though, Italy. He's just fine." Spain gave him a sad look. Alfred remembered Spain, France, Prussia, and Britain were all Pirates together. Spain and Arthur weren't exactly on good terms back then. The trio was still conquering vital regions back then; Alfred had heard stories from all four nations. He loved them as a kid. But then again, as a kid he never knew that pirates did horrible things. He thought they just went around stealing treasure, taking pretty girls that the hero had to rescue. Like Captain Hook from Peter Pan taking Wendy. Arthur told him great stories… Alfred gave Antonio a curt little nod, confirming the Spaniards suspicions. Spain nodded back.

"Alright." Italy said, clearly not understanding anything.

"I need to speak with Alfred." Germany said quickly. "Spain you can stay if you'd like. The two of you," He motioned to the Italian brothers. "Go away." Romano started to protest but a kiss from Spain shut him up. Alfred laughed loudly at the angered, confused, and disappointed face that had stuck itself on Lovino. Feliciano pulled him away, kissing Germany's cheek softly. Alfred felt the pang of loneliness again and bit his lip. _I miss Gilbert…_ He thought to himself. Germany looked sadly at him. After the brothers were gone, Germany motioned for the two of them to follow him. He quickly found an empty room and sat stood against a wall.

"Look, Ludwig, I don't know what you want but-"

"Have you heard anything from Gilbert in the last little while?" His question was abrupt. Quick. To the point. Alfred took a step back and ran into Spain. He felt trapped. Alone again. He felt terror and hatred fill him quickly. _No… _He thought. _They won't hurt me… Right? _He felt paranoia taking control and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and he quickly stepped away from the door, Spain, and went into the middle of the room, still looking at Germany. He continued to keep Spain in the corner of his eye, making sure he could see him. He knew he was being paranoid, but he didn't care.

"No. Why do you ask?" He said quickly. He felt his voice crack. He hoped Germany knew what he did, or else this news would shock the German as much as it shocked him.

"He was supposed to come over a long while ago. He never showed up. Do you know anything about that, America?" The name of the country he once was called forth that light-hearted kid that Gilbert had known. Not the paranoid ex-county he was. He smiled ruefully.

"You didn't hear, Ludwig? The others afraid you'd start another war?" He laughed. It sounded mean, but Germany laughed too. Coldly, sure. But he still laughed. Maybe he_ was_ as scary as Russia… no. Scratch that. They could all be scarier than Russia if they wanted to. He knew from experience these countries in the room with him could kill him now. He didn't know what it was like to be a dying country, but seemed like they couldn't be killed for a long time. He winced as his vision blurred and a pain hit his head. He turned around quickly, but no one was there.

"I heard." The German's voice made him turn back around. Made him look him in the eyes. "I did not believe that the Canadian could kill Gilbert. Even Ivan couldn't…" Alfred stiffened. His old self back.

"How did you know it was Matthew…?" Another question came to mind and paranoia struck hard. "How can you remember him?!" He almost screamed. Spain was by his side in a second. As if they had made an agreement with this talk. Alfred felt tears streaming his face, but barely. He was scared. He was alone.

"I know because I figured it out. It was easy if you saw the clues. I remember him because he was becoming noticeable in meetings, more so than before." Alfred stood there numbly before putting his head down in defeat. Spain put his hand on his shoulder again. Alfred let him.

"I'm sorry Alfred." Spain said softly. Alfred remembered the trio.

"What's going to happen to you and France now?" He looked at Spain and saw tears running down his face. He was still smiling though.

"You didn't hear? No, I'd think not…"

"You don't have to tell him, Antonio." Ludwig stated.

"Si. Alfred, France has fallen. Britain has fallen. You are a slave within an enslaved country. You will not last as long as Gilbert has." _He said has. Not had._ The Spaniard knew something… Realization of his words hit. He would die soon. Francis would. Arthur would.

"This is Matthew's fault…" He found himself saying. Quickly a very scared and flushed Lithuania came into the room in panic. He ran quickly to Germany and whispered quickly in his ear. Ludwig's eyes widened and Lithuania ran back out. Giving Spain and Alfred a nod.

"Germany, what is it…?" Germany looked at them. No emotion was on his face, but he was as pale as sheet.

"Russia has fallen. Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Belarus, and Ukraine have fallen as well." Words no one had ever thought they would hear. They did. And this was all Matthew's fault.

Britain still sat at the table. Most of the others just stood around. Britain's brothers gave him bad looks. Most of the rest of the nation's sat on the side far away from Canada. Lithuania was shaking in fear, and Russia looked ready to rip someone's head off. Matthew had a smirk placed on his face as he looked over the nations. _Like picking out his next pray…_ Alfred thought, almost growling at the thought. He ignored the nation's talk about normal things they talked about, and he turned to France.

"How did you get it?" He asked quietly.

"Right after you, Mon Ami." The Frenchman's voice was grave.

"And England?"

"A day or so after moi." He answered sadly. Alfred nodded.

"I never even knew…" He whispered.

"You weren't expected to." He looked the American over. "How can you see, Alfred?"

"England gave me weird contacts that don't improve it a hundred percent, but enough I can make out what everything is and where I'm going." That was probably the most intelligent thing he had said.

"I never knew l'Angleterre was so good…" His voice was filled with awe. He nodded slowly, biting his lip at saying: _Would a good person trace their flag in my back with a sword?_ He thought of it. But he didn't say it. He looked at the countries and sighed softly. He really hated his brother.

"You too, Comrade America?" Russia said in his ear. Alfred jumped and looked on his other side; Russia was standing next to him.

"And you care why…?"

"I just wanted to see who else." He looked him over.

"You haven't been totally destroyed yet. You've just been taken over." He accused angrily.

"Ah, Da. I have. But, I've heard you were disbanded the very same day. Other than Prussia, that's a record, Da?" Ivan smirked. He was not in the mood for his jokes.

"Yeah, and just like you tried to kill Prussia – and failed I might add – Canada's going to literally kill us all too and become more powerful than you ever could be, mofo." It felt good to just have a nice conversation with Ivan. The Russian grabbed the lining of his shirt.

"That Canadian is not going to beat me. We were un-prepared for the war with Canada."

"Of course. The great, "Russian Army" Wasn't prepared for a little brawl with a Canadian. They don't even normally Fight at all! Ivan. I'm sorry, but that just is stupid."

"And you have a right to complain? Who was the first one who made him snap. We could all blame you for our issue with that Canada." Russia growled. The shocked look on Alfred's face gave the Commie some satisfaction. It seemed as though the American had no come back.

"Ivan…" He said slowly. His gaze softened and Ivan was surprised to see weakness and tiredness in the boy's eyes. "If you could know the pain, the literal pain, of having the people you grew up with turn on you, be tortured by your father, and watch all those around you fall to your older brother, you'd be just as I am. If you could kill me, I would ask you to take your best shot. But you can't. Ivan, I lost because they set fire to my capital, and states. My two father figures and brother were all against me. I'd lose to you in a heartbeat compared to having to fight those three." He found Ivan's eyes a little softer too.

"Comrade, America-" The Russian began.

"I'm not America anymore." Alfred said softly. "And I won't be ever again." He lowered his gaze. The countries stood up and Alfred realized they were going for a break. He quickly broke from Russia and went to Britain.

"Yes, Alfred?" Arthur sounded tired and done. Just how Alfred felt.

"I don't feel well, Arthur. I'm going to the bathroom." He said quietly. Arthur turned to him and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. _It's almost like he doesn't remember he shouldn't be nice to me…_ He felt Ivan watching him. Alfred let Arthur's cold hand stay on his forehead. It felt really good.

"Are you alright, poppet?" The Brit asked softly. Alfred nodded weakly. He straightened up and bit the inside of his cheek. _Don't show him pain._ He thought to himself.

"I just don't feel well." He felt his eyes fill up with tears. Gilbert was gone. Matthew was long gone mentally. France was soon to be gone. Russia was soon to be gone. Britain… Arthur was too. It was all his fault for pissing off Matthew. He felt Arthur's hand shaking, and the Brit put it down. "I-I'm sorry." He gasped out before running out of the meeting room. He heard someone call his name. He didn't care. He ran into the bathroom and vomited.

((Um... I don't really know what to say about this chapter... All of this was just written and then dumped here... Again, Oops...))

((She's going to say that a lot...))

((Yup. Well, hope this was enough.. Next chapter, will be really horrible and I am very sorry... I am so, so sorry...))


	12. Chapter 12

He stayed in the stall for a little while before flushing the toilet and come out he looked in the mirror and resisted breaking it. His complexion was pale. Pale as anyone could get. His eyes were a cloudy, destroyed blue now. No longer full of childlike joy and happiness. Empty. That's the word for what he was. Empty. His stomach clenched again and his head exploded in pain. He grabbed the sink and closed his eyes tightly. That episode soon ended and he heard a soft laugh next to him.

"I see you're going great, eh, Hero?" Matthew. Alfred wondered how long his brother had been standing there.

"What do you want, Mattie?" He said coldly.

"That's no way to treat family, eh." He said, smirking. Alfred wished to kill him.

"Oh, so stripping them of their country status and ruining them is?" He growled back. Matthew made a disappointed sound with his tongue.

"All is fair in love and war, Alfred."

"Yeah, and all is fair in being fucking crazy and mental too but you don't see everyone else doing that." Matthew looked around.

"I only see you here." Matthew grinned crazily. "And Ivan seems pretty good at doing it too." Alfred snorted.

"He never destroyed Belarus or Ukraine after they broke from the USSR. Never took away their country status." Alfred said. "He might be crazy, but he still has a little sense of right and wrong." Matthew laughed.

"Ivan? Having a sense of right and wrong? Did Arthur smack you around a little too hard, Alfred?" Alfred glared at him.

"Eat dirt." He growled. Matthew laughed.

"Someone needs to teach you some manners, brother." The Canadian stepped up to him. He stepped back into the sink and starred into his brother's eyes, wide eyed.

"Matthew… Stop…" He said weakly. His brother grabbed his head and forced him to his knees. He realized he had shrunk some, so his brother was able to kneel down beside him.

"And if Arthur won't," He ignored Alfred's multiple pleads for him to stop. "I will." He dug two fingers into his right eye. Alfred screamed out and Matthew dug his fingers in deeper. He stifled his screams and tried to pull away, blood running down his face like tears. Matthew dug his fingers in further and twisted them around. Soon enough, he pulled his fingers away and let Alfred drop. The American didn't even touch his eye, but looked to Matthew. His brother held one contact in his hand. _From the eye he messed up…_ Matthew laughed and threw the contact and stepped on it, walking out of the room. Alfred stayed for a second before getting up and looking into the mirror. His had a hole where his eye was. His other eye was cloudy still. Just as he had seen them both minutes before. He sighed and put his hand over his eye. He cleaned up the bloody mess on the floor and walked out of the room, back into the meeting room.

Most nations were still out; fore they had taken a break right before lunch. France and Britain were still there. France pointed to Alfred as he walked in, Britain turned to him quickly, hitting him before Alfred could even say anything, before Arthur saw anything.

"I called for you to stop, Alfred." Arthur said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. It won't happen again." He said slowly. Arthur looked at him and Alfred cupped his hand over his eye harder, willing the blood to stay back between his fingers. He could smell the blood from his eye.

"Alfred, what happened to your eye?" Francis asked softly. Alfred shrugged.

"Mercy." He looked to Arthur and he nodded slowly. He grabbed Alfred's hand and slowly brought it away from his almost took a step back.

"I haven't seen anything this bad since you were a pirate, Arthur." France said simply. Arthur nodded.

"We only did this to people we had attacked who wouldn't cooperate…" He whispered. Alfred looked at him, the blood intoxicating him.

"Matthew suddenly saw it fit to teach me some manners." He said. He wanted to put his hand back over his eye. The air hurt. Arthur nodded and turned back to France, continuing a conversation with him. Alfred walked over to the window and looked out it, putting his hand back over his eye. He didn't want to see the bloody, black hole that was his eye. He barely wanted to see himself. He continued to look out the window, wondering how long he had.

The meeting was going to start soon. Alfred had learned long time ago what time meetings started, how long break times were, and how long lunch was. It was almost time for the nations to come back into the room. Alfred felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see France.

"Here, put this on." The Frenchman held out an eye patch. "Your hand will get tired after a while." Alfred nodded and removed his hand, putting the black eye patch on. He used the back of his hand to take off the blood track down his cheek.

"Thanks, Francis." He said slowly. France nodded and walked back across the room to talk to Arthur. Alfred looked at himself in the window. The black of the patch matched that of the eye under. He continued until he heard his brother's laugh. He turned to see that the meeting had started. Matthew seemed to have caught a glance at him; he must have looked hilarious with an eye patch.

((I am so, so sorry... I... It was needed...))

((She had her friend read it, and the poor girl almost got sick.))

((Yeah... If she's reading this, and if you did the same, I am actually really sorry! *Curls in a corner.* I need to be destroyed.))

((Do you notice something though. Always, she always has something bad happen to an eye in these two bad stories she's written...))

((Yup. Well, I'll stop talking and you can go onto the next chapter!... Please don't hurt me...))


	13. Chapter 13

The meeting ended soon after that and most nations ran to get out of the room. He noticed Russia and France talking, and Britain casting glances at them sometimes, nodding or shaking his head. Matthew left the room and you could almost see the tension lift. The nations began to talk to one and other, speaking of plans for a night, or who's dead, who's alive, who's in and who's out. Normal stupid things anyone would talk about. They might be nations, but they had to have some kind of social life. He say Britain slowly walk over to France and Russia. The large nation caught his eye and motioned for him to come over. He walked over slowly and Britain didn't even give him a glance.

"Hello, Comrade America." Russia greeted. His smile didn't make Alfred shrink away very much anymore.

"Can you not call me that, please, Ivan?" He remembered France and Britain and almost shrunk away, suddenly self-conscious. He shook his head and motioned that he didn't care anymore, he turned to go back to his window. No one stopped him as he walked back and leaned against the wall, looking out. He looked down on all the quickly disappearing countries. He quickly looked for Matthew and found him, looking up at him too. The older twin smirked from his spot on the ground, gave him the finger and ran off. Alfred wished to punch him. He could only stare at his retreating figure as he let his mind wander to why he had always wanted to get home fast.

Whenever he got home after meetings he would be with Gilbert. He could always see him after meetings… Gilbert never came to the meetings unless he wanted to. Russia had always made him when he had him, and no matter how much Alfred wanted him to come with him, he would leave the Prussian alone. Sometimes Gilbert would come along without a word. Alfred would say he was leaving, and Gilbert would just jump up and come with him. He mostly just came to see how his brother was doing. Oh, how he had just loved to see Gilbert happy…

His head cleared quickly as it felt as though someone punched his stomach. He looked around slowly and saw only France, Russia, and Britain in the room. All three were looking at him now. He quickly looked away and took his hand away from his stomach. Slowly, he turned back to them and smiled.

"Ready to go, lad?" Arthur asked. Alfred nodded slowly. His eye hurt and he felt the heat absolutely coming off it. His stomach still felt queasy and he wanted desperately to go to his own house. He knew he couldn't, but he wished to. Arthur bid the two other nations farewell and left the room, America close behind.

"Amerique." France called. Alfred turned around to look at him. The Frenchmen gave him a nod and a small smile. "Hold on." Francis told him. "Soon." He nodded and wondered how he answered the question that was in his mind and comforted him. He turned back around and hurried off after the Brit, wondering how this had ever started and wanting it to end quickly.

((Sorry it's another one of the short chapters. I swear, I don't think it gets super short again! Hope it was good.))

((Oh, she should have probably cleared on something but since she didn't, I will. Wanting it to end doesn't mean he commits suicide. He just disappears into thin air is how they saw how a country dies. *Cough. Cough*Prussia*Cough. Cough*))


	14. Chapter 14

Matthew returned to his house and sighed. He was greeted by Kumajiro, jumping onto him from behind.

"Hey Kuma." He said happily. He might have snapped, but Kuma was still his.

"Who are you?" Even after everything that had happened, that was still Kuma's greeting. The polar bear knew who he was. It's hard to get out of old habits.

"Canada." He stated, walking into the kitchen. He gave the bear some fish and grabbed a bottle of maple syrup for himself. He walked into his room and took a gulp of the sticky syrup. There was a map of the world on his wall, the countries scribbled out for ones he's beaten. He gave the American's land a glance then looked over to Europe. He smiled. Germany and Italy were circled. _It would be too easy to get the Italians. _He thought. There was a bang from downstairs and he ran out of his room down the steps to the basement.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was chained to the wall. The room smelled of stale piss, blood, and desperation. Matthew hated coming down here. Gilbert had a cut on his lip, a black eye, and a bruise on his neck. (He has more injuries, but you can't see them with his clothes on.) He was wearing the same clothes he had on when he left Alfred's house, oh, so long ago. He looked up at the Canadian's entrance and mock bowed from where he knelt on the floor

"And to what do I owe the presence of the _amazing_ Canada?" Gilbert mocked. Canada stiffened and hit him. Gilbert just laughed. Matthew looked down at him.

"What have you been doing down here?" He asked. Gilbert shrugged and looked around.

"What's there to do?" Matthew looked around to. A vase had fallen from a shelf. He starred at the broken remains then back to Gilbert.

"True." Gilbert grinned evilly.

"Is that all, _your highness?_" _Gilbert must have had a lot of practice in these kinds of situations…_ Matthew thought. He turned around and started to walk out. Half way out of the room he turned back to Gilbert.

"Alfred believes you're dead." Gilbert nodded slowly.

"You've told me."

"He's going to die soon." Matthew continued. Gilbert nodded.

"And that." Matthew smirked.

"I took out his eye today." He walked out of the room with Gilbert's voice trailing him.

"_What?!_" Matthew continued to walk down the hall. _That would get him going…_

((Gah. Another short chapter. Please don't kill me... Um... Surprise? Did anyone guess this? Did you guess it? I sure didn't guess this would happen. Um... Sorry to those of you who I am killing your favorite characters and/or pairings. I think I should say that now... *14 chapters in.* Too late. Sorry.))

((She's not sorry.))

((You don't just tell the readers that!))


	15. Chapter 15

It was past midnight. Alfred was still up looking through his old things. He had written in one of the books today. He could barely see his writing, so it was probably impossible to read.

Matthew pulled out my eye today. Can I die yet, Arthur?

He continued to flip through his things, reading notes and letters, wondering why he had been writing these to all of them. He sighed and put his things away, turning onto his back. He didn't care about his back anymore. He could still feel the execs blood in the hole, swirling around and pooling up. He got up slowly and walked into the bathroom, lifting the eye patch from his eye.

If anything it looked worse. There was red crust all around his eye and all around the rest of it was black. He ducked his head over the sink and watched the blood fall out of his eye. He took the eye patch off and rung out the blood there too. He sighed and turned on the water, watching the water turn pink and go down the drain. The blood had stopped gushing out of his eye. He slowly blinked his eye. His eye was disgusting, the other one at least showed color… Arthur knocked on the frame and looked in on him.

"Alfred, you alright?" He asked. He didn't sound very concerned. It seemed as though he wasn't even trying. He turned away from the Brit and nodded.

"Fine." He said quietly. He put the eye patch back on and turned around to face him. He gave him a smile and walked past him, careful not to run into him or touch him for that matter. Alfred went to his room and Arthur followed him quietly. The American sat on his bed and looked at Arthur.

"Lad…" Arthur began. Alfred didn't care.

"Just whip me and get outta here." He said quickly. Shock crossed the gentlemen's face.

"Alfred-"

"I'm just dead anyways, right?" He thought back to before his revolution. Long before. How he loved Arthur more than anything. How Arthur had cared for him… He starred defiantly at his father figure. He wondered again how long he had until he was with Gilbert again. Arthur gave him a look and walked out of the room. Alfred bit back a scream of pain as it felt like his head opened up. He put his hands on his head and fell backwards on the bed. _Dear lord make it stop…_ He thought silently. _Help me…_

Weeks and months went by. Soon enough, a year had gone by. Beatings from Arthur became nothing. The pain started to become his night time friend. He was alone, and that was that. He wondered every time the pain hit if it would feel that way for Gilbert. If it had. Canada controlled most of the world by now. Alfred hadn't eaten food in the longest of time, finding Arthur's food the worst thing ever. He had lost sight, hearing, mobility, feeling, and everything else, so how close to death he was, it was known. Not even then could Arthur get him to eat anything. He was long since out of it. He no longer felt anything, yet somehow the pain always found Alfred in the night.

((Okay. Um... loosing sight, hearing, mobility, feeling, and everything else is another idea of how they are "Led up" to their deaths... SorrynotSorry. I know. My friend and I are twisted.))

((You two are mentally unstable.))

((Shut it.))


	16. Chapter 16

Gilbert stood up in the basement and rubbed his wrists, knowing the Canadian was somewhere in Europe. The scars of the chains on his wrists were still bloody from his struggle to get off the wall. He felt around the wall and found the door. He opened it a crack and looked out. No one was there, as he thought. Gilbert opened the door and closed it behind him, making it look like nothing had happened. He walked down the hallway, still off on his feet having knelt down for so long. He got out of the house and looked around quickly. He was somewhere in America – or at least what was America – New York it looked to be. He knew Alfred would be somewhere in Britain. He started running, knowing that if he hurried he could be there for his loves last day.

Alfred sat up and looked around. He didn't know how he could see and hear. He didn't know how he could feel. He didn't know what happened. His stomach growled and he let out a soft hiss of pain. He decided to ignore it. He got up off the bed he had been put in for so long. He walked out of the room and looked into Arthur's bedroom. The Brit was facing away from him, reading. Alfred stood in the door way, watching him for a little while. He decided he didn't like the quiet anymore.

"A-Arthur?" His voice sounded ragged and torn. The Brit whipped his head around and starred at the American for a long time. Arthur nodded to himself and stood up.

"Final day then, huh, poppet?" Alfred nodded. He had figured that's what this was. He wondered how long it would have been for Gilbert to lose everything and have his final day. He waved him off and turned back around.

"I just came to let you know." He said. He didn't see what Arthur did. He walked back into his bedroom and pulled out the journals and letters. He opened it to the last page he had read. There was another note there too.

_Alfred,_

_Gilbert should be coming soon. Hang on there, lad. A few more hours to go._

He silently wondered how long he had just been lying in the bed, staring into space. He didn't care. Arthur lied anyways. Gilbert wouldn't come. He's dead. He felt the pang of loneliness he had hated for so long. He put the things away quickly and lay back on the bed. He had been sleeping for so long, but was still tired. He fell asleep in matter of seconds.

((Final day and more magic. Final day... Um... They get back all their senses, and then later in the die fade away into nothing.))

((It's a short chapter again, Monster.))

((What no it's- Oh no... PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! ;-; ))


	17. Chapter 17

Gilbert banged on the door to Britain's house. He didn't exactly like the Brit, but he needed to see Alfred. He heard a muffled voice and Arthur opened the door. He starred at Gilbert for a second.

"I shouldn't be surprised…" He whispered to himself, motioning for Gilbert to come in. "You're here to see Alfred?" He asked.

"Ja." Gilbert answered. "Is he still…" Gilbert didn't finish his sentence. Arthur nodded and pointed down the hallway.

"He woke up a few hours ago but fell back asleep." The Brit said quietly. Gilbert nodded. He walked down the hallway and looked into an open door. He saw a figure on the bed, what was left of the stomach was rising and falling as he breathed. Gilbert stayed in the doorway for a long while before walking to the bed and sitting next to the figure. Gilbert looked over his features. He was thinner than ever and his complexion was as pale as the sheet he was lying on. Gilbert put his hand on Alfred's forehead and he felt him stir slowly. He let out a soft sigh and blinked open his uncovered eye. Alfred's gaze fell on Gilbert and he starred at him. The American sat up slowly and raised a hand weakly. He put his hand on Gilbert's face and Gilbert grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckle.

"G…. Gilbert…" Alfred said slowly, trying to convince himself that Gilbert was right in front of him.

"I'm right here, Alfred." The Prussian softly whispered, leaning over and kissing him. Alfred smiled and continued to watch him, enjoying just that Gilbert was there with him. A thought popped into his head.

"Am I dead?" He asked quietly.

"No." Gilbert laughed softly. "Not yet, Alfie." He kissed his nose. "You're still mine yet." Alfred smiled. He loved Gilbert. He was so nice to him.

"Will you hate me if I show you my scars?" He wondered out loud. Gilbert shook his head.

"You've seen mine, and you still love me." He stated. "The same goes to you." Alfred nodded. He slowly raised his arms and took off the eye patch. It sticks to the hole of his eye, but he pulled it off. Gilbert's eyes got slightly wider. Alfred put his head down.

"I…" The kid didn't know what to say. Gilbert kissed under his eye socket and then kissed him.

"It's okay Alfred." The elder soothed. Alfred nodded and got onto his knees, hugging him.

"Thank you." He whispered. He felt Gilbert shake with a sob. Gilbert never cried…

"What for?"

"You're here right now. And that's all I ever wanted…" Alfred felt tears pooling down his own face he tried to hug him tighter, but couldn't. He felt himself drain of energy. He went limp in Gilbert's arms. The elder nation laid him back on the bed. Alfred reached out, almost blindly for him. Gilbert grasped his hand and kissed him once again.

"Ich liebe dich" He whispered.

"I love you too." Alfred whispered back. He smiled and continued to watch him. He watched a tear fall down Gilbert's face. He continued to smile, tears falling down his own face. He started to fade away, and his eyes widened suddenly. "No…" He whispered. "Please… No, no, no, no, no…" Gilbert kissed his fading figure farewell.

"Its okay, Alfred. I'll see you soon." Gilbert said smiling. And with that, Alfred was gone.

((Another short chapter... This isn't my fault. I'm trying to finish it, so I can do my homework! I'm sorry he's dead, guys. But that's all there is to it. He's dead.))

((Now they're definitely going to kill you.))

((I know...))


	18. Chapter 18

Matthew turned a corner in a house. He looked panicked slightly, holding a gun in his hand. He turned and looked around, walking a little faster. There's a smash beside him as a vase breaks with a gun shot. He takes off running in the opposite direction and turns a corner, bursting into a room. He runs into something and falls backwards. He looks up into Russia's face, with him smiling coldly down at him.

"Hello, Matthew." (However he says Matthew's name…) Matthew jumps up and takes off down the hallway again. There are more footsteps behind him before another gunshot rings out from in front of him. He lets out a cry of pain as the bullet rips through his shoulder. He lets go of his gun in shock and stops in his tracks, looking around the dark hallway.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…" He whispered to himself. France and Russia stepped into his line of vision, one on each side of him. He closed his eyes.

"Ah, Matthew." France said. "In trouble now, aren't we?" Russia laughed coldly. Matthew smirked, trying to hide his fear.

"You caught me. How good for you." His voice shook, not very convincing. He heard a gun click, but he remained where he was, his shoulder screaming in pain. He suddenly got a kick to the back of knees. He fell forward and landed on his knees, he looked up into a gun.

"Goodbye, Matthew." Russia said slowly. The gun clicked and went off.

((Shortest chapter yet, you all must despise me now... Well... Um... Killing off Matthew, eh? Never thought I'd kill both North American Brothers off... Sorry...))

((And yet... The story continues?))

((Surprise.))


	19. Chapter 19

Both American brothers sat up with a start, in different beds, in different countries, with different loves lying next to them. Both let out a terrified shriek of panic. They looked around.

Alfred sobbed and looked over to Gilbert. He shook him softly.

"G-Gilbert…?" He whispered. Gilbert blinked his eyes open slowly. He muttered a string of German words that Alfred didn't catch and sat up slowly.

"It's 3 in the ficking morning…" Gilbert grumbled looking at the clock. He gave Alfred one look and immediately was awake. Alfred sobbed again and hugged him. "Are you alright?" Gilbert asked. Alfred looked up at him and shook his head moving away from him and swinging his legs off the bed. He held his head in his hands feeling his hands quickly grow wet with tears.

"No, no, no, no, no…" Alfred whispered quietly. The pain was so real. The sounds, the voices, the loneliness, everything was so real. But it was all just a dream? Gilbert's face flashed through his mind again. The Gilbert from his dream. The sadness and tears and smile on his face… It was all so real. His words. Oh, the pain was so real. All of it was so, so real… Gilbert put his arms around Alfred's shoulders and brought him into a hug. Alfred closed his eyes and let himself take in his loving embrace. Gilbert hummed something quietly and Alfred went back through his dream, deciding what to tell Gilbert. He felt the paranoia back in his throat. His head still hurt. His stomach. His heart. His back… He jumped away from his embrace and ran to the bathroom. He heard his name called and decided to ignore it once more. He almost tore his shirt off and turned on the light, turning around in the mirror. He looked at his back and almost screamed. His scars were still there. It wasn't a dream. He let out a cry of horror and sunk to the ground again. Gilbert came running in after him and glanced at him.

"Alfred, what are you doing?" The younger nation looked up to the Prussian. He stood back up and looked at his back again.

"It's not there…" He said quietly. It wasn't. He was hallucinating… Gilbert followed his gaze and looked at his back too.

"What's not there, Alfred?" His voice sounded almost scared now. It wasn't anything like his dream… Alfred sighed and grabbed his shirt again, putting it back on. He put his head down.

"I… I had a nightmare…" His voice sounded childish. He felt like he was back with Arthur. He had to remind himself that, that part of his life was over. He would not go back to him. Arthur wouldn't hurt him. He turned to the mirror and checked to see if he had both eyes. He did. He nodded slowly and walked back into the bedroom. Gilbert sat him down on the bed and got him a glass of water. He gulped it down quickly, remembering how he had said he'd rather starve himself in his nightmare.

"Will you tell me?" Gilbert asked sitting next to him. He started to shake his head but decided against it, nodding. He felt tears running down his face. Gilbert kissed him and Alfred grabbed him quickly and kissed him back, not letting go until they both needed air. He kept his head down and Gilbert continued to watch him.

"You… You can't be mad at me, okay, dude?" He wet his lips, and looked at Gilbert.

"I wouldn't be."

"You died." Gilbert stayed silent for a second.

"That's not a lie soon-" Alfred quickly interrupted, not needing to hear about his death twice.

"Matthew killed you." He said quickly. Gilbert gave him a strange look.

"Mein Birdie?"

"Please don't be mad…"

"I'm not, Alfred. Go on. Please." He started to go on, but the phone rang.

Canada looked over to Britain. He sighed in relief seeing him well. He got up and almost ran to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror, making sure his eyes weren't crazy anymore. He sighed, seeing them their normal purple. He smiled slightly but bit his lip in terror. He had destroyed his family, Russia – he was amazed, even in a dream – and almost every other nation. He had… Almost killed Gilbert too. He couldn't believe it. Himself. Killing all those nations. His own family. He wondered if Alfred was okay…

"Mattie?" Arthur asked. His voice made the Canadian jump. Matthew turned to him and starred at him for a second before hugging him tightly.

"Arthur…" He whispered, silent tears rolling down his face, his mouth twisted in a joyful smile. "A-Arthur you're a-alive!" He said happily. The anger towards Alfred seemed so real. His craziness seemed so real… Arthur grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away, kissing him lightly.

"Matthew, what is it?" He asked quietly. Matthew continued to look at him. Arthur would understand…

"I h-had a n-nightmare…" Matthew whispered softly. Arthur was lucky the rest of the house was quiet; he would have never been able to hear him. Arthur hugged the younger softly.

"If you want to tell me you can." He said softly. Matthew nodded and walked back into the bedroom. Is Alfred okay? The thought made him look around for a phone.

"Where's a phone, Arthur?" He asked quietly. Arthur walked out of the room and came back with one in his hand.

"And you need to call who?"

"Alfred." Arthur gave him a strange look but gave him the phone.

"And your reason for that is…?"

"I killed him." He said quietly. Arthur gave him a confused look.

"No you didn't." Arthur said, kissing him.

"In my n-nightmare!" Matthew said desperately, looking at him in terror, begging him to understand. "I made you and p-papa sign a t-treaty against h-him… I beat him and g-gave him b-back to y-y-you…" It took all his strength to not cry. Arthur nodded slowly, processing what he just said.

"It's alright, love." Arthur said kissing his forehead. "It was only a nightmare. You didn't really do that." Matthew nodded but typed in Alfred's number none the less, knowing him and Gilbert were sleeping there. He pressed talk and held the phone to his ear. He listened to it ringing before he heard the American pick it up. His voice sounded raw as if he had just been crying or screaming. _Or being tortured. _Matthew shook away the thought.

"S'up?" Alfred answered.

"Alfred! I-It's Matthew."

"Matthew!" He heard Gilbert say in the background. "Why are you calling, Birdie? It's 3 a.m here!" Matthew nodded, almost forgetting they couldn't see him.

"Yeah, why're you calling, bro?" When he said 'bro' his voice was strained as if he had to force himself to say it.

"I-I'm sorry…" He choked out. "I'm sorry A-Alfred…" Alfred's breath hitched.

"What happened?" His voice sounded ragged.

"I…. I had a n-nightmare…" He said quietly. It sounded like Gilbert had taken the phone, Alfred sobbed in the background.

"Alfred had one too." Gilbert responded. His voice was full of worry. Arthur gave Matthew a look, hearing the whole conversation.

"What aboot?" He asked softly.

"Don't freak out Birdie, but he said you killed me."

"No! I-I almost did… I locked you up so you c-couldn't h-help Al and y-you got out b-before Alfred d-died…" Gilbert was silent on the other end. Alfred's voice spoke up.

"You gave me back to Arthur…"

"I'm s-sorry…" His voice said.

"It seemed longer than a few hours, didn't it?"

"Yeah…"

"It seemed so good at the beginning…"

"My intentions were clear from the beginning of the nightmare, Alfred." He didn't stutter. Alfred sobbed and he heard the phone handed back to Gilbert.

"Did you tell Arthur?"

"Not yet."

"Alfred hasn't told me either. He told me that I died. He also had run into the bathroom as if to check something…"

"Yeah. A-Arthur had tortured h-him. Like taking o-out an eye, a-and tracing the f-flag into his back. Maybe r-rape. I d-don't know t-too much. I w-wasn't in that p-part of the n-nightmare." Arthur gave him a strange look. _Wasn't it me that gouged out his eye…?_ He put the phone away from his mouth for a second.

"Why would I do that to him?" Arthur asked quietly.

"That was A-Alfred's fear. I didn't m-make that happen."

"Why would Alfred be afraid of that…?" Matthew shrugged and brought the phone back up to his mouth.

"I-I was just c-calling to m-make sure Al was o-okay…" He said. Gilbert grunted in acknowledge-ment.

"Ja. Feel better, Birdie. I need to try and pry the information from Alfred now…" His voice sounded grave.

"W-What's he doing n-now?"

"He's just talking on about how bad Arthur's food was, even in a dream. That dream must have really spooked him. Talk to you later Birdie!"

"Bye, Gil." He said, hanging up the phone. Arthur sat next to him and kissed his cheek.

"Will you tell me now?" Matthew nodded and started from the beginning.

((Got it. Surprised? Yeah, me too...))

((Maple Tea, Monster? Really?))

((... Yes. I had to.))


	20. Chapter 20

Alfred sat on the bed, his legs tucked underneath him. He smiled at Gilbert, Gilbert just kissed him.

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked. Gilbert laughed softly.

"Me? I'm just worried for you, Alfie." He kissed him again.

"I'm fine! Nothing the hero can't take!" He grinned again. Gilbert watched as a tear slowly fell down his cheek. He kissed him softly and wiped the tear away.

"Sometimes the hero needs some help." He said quietly. Alfred's smile disappeared and he nodded, putting his head down.

"It hurt, Gilbert." He whispered. "It hurt." Gilbert nodded and kissed the younger nation.

"I know, Alfred. But it was just a dream. It wasn't real. It isn't real. It was just a nightmare. That won't actually happen. I won't allow it." Alfred looked at him, shaking in fear.

"But what about when you do die?" Alfred whimpered pitifully.

"I won't let that happen either." Gilbert whispered kissing him.

"Promise?"

"Promise." Alfred nodded and kissed him. Gilbert pulled back slowly. "Do you think you can tell me that nightmare?" Alfred nodded again.

"I think so…" Gilbert nodded and sat next to him. Alfred leaned into his chest and started in on the story.

((Short chapter, yes. Last chapter, also yes. Anything I need to clarify? I don't think so. I think it's a cute ending. Just a Nightmare after all...))

((You've made them angry at you. The readers are going to kill you.))

((Nuh, uh! I gave them a story! And tried to make it a good ending! I could have killed off both brothers and left it there! But, no! Okay, so... Um... I'll try to post more stories? Tips? Death threats? Please do tell. I'll start on another story. Hope this one was good. Hope your reading was filled with feels!))


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